


185 - Reader Has a Panic Attack in the Catfish Mosh

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Hero Van, Mini Fic, Other, Reader-Insert, mental health, platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 05:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17400677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “a fic about the reader having social anxiety and having a breakdown/panick attack while being at one of catfish’s shows and van notices while he’s on stage and some how managed to comfort you after the show.”





	185 - Reader Has a Panic Attack in the Catfish Mosh

It was meant to be the best moment of your life. A couple of hours where all the bad of the world was left outside and you could subsist as a creature that existed only to listen to Catfish and the Bottlemen live. You could leave your fears and anxiety at the door and melt into the crowd. Each person one and the same as the next. But, isn't reality a nasty little thing? Doesn't he hear your midnight dreams and sunshine fantasies and smirk? He clicks his tongue and sets his mind on ensuring none of those things come true. 

As the crowd became more and more excited, their movement became erratic. Although you were not being physically crushed, your lungs still refused to fill with air. You couldn't focus on the band, instead a voice in your head was louder than Van's. It was screaming, screeching. You're trapped. You can't escape. You looked around. The voice was right. If something happened, how could you get out? Jump the barrier? You didn't have the physical capability to achieve that. Maybe you should have brought a friend. They would see your panic attack and know what to do. Instead, you were alone, and the girls either side of you thought your shaking hands and breathlessness was because of the proximity of Van's swinging hips.

Van's swinging hips. That was it. Focus on that. Focus on watching for Bob's small smile and his hair whipping around. Focus on trying to work out what Benji was looking at, near the back of the room. Focus on Bondy's attempts to get out of Van's way as he ran across the stage. It helped, but it wasn't enough. Halfway through the show, as the lights were brought up so the guys could see the crowd, your chest was heaving and could only keep your eyes open for a few seconds at a time.

"How we doin'?" Van asked the room, to which it responded with cheers and screams. "Yeah? Everyone good?" You watched him look from person to person, giving thumbs up and nodding. There was a group of girls at the barrier, to the left of you. They were small and red faced. "You right, love?" Van asked one of them. "No? You want some water? Yeah?" 

He collected bottles of water from the drum stage and jumped down into the space between stage and crowd. Larry came and held his guitar for him. Van handed the water to the girls, and the security guards followed his example and started to do the same. One of them stood in front of you and said something. You didn't respond. Then, the girl next to you squealed, snapping your eyes open. Van was in front of you, his face worried. "Think you should come out," he said. You looked around, still not breathing properly. Your skin was probably turning a purple colour from lack of oxygen. The room's focus on you wasn't helping the panic. The band were glancing at each other, then back down at Van. Benji shrugged at someone off stage. You shook your head. "No?" he asked.

"I…" You tried to speak but the anxiety had your voice held hostage. He needed to understand that you wouldn't miss the show for anything though. Trying again, you got the sentence out. "I can't miss this."

Van laughed. He didn't seem concerned that hundreds of people were waiting for him to return to the stage. "Aw, love. That's the spirit! But, I don't want ya to die on my watch. So, how about we just get you to come and sit with Larry, hey?"

In the interest of getting people to stop staring at you, you nodded. Van grinned, and put his arms around you, easily lifting you over the barrier. He sat you on stage, and Larry was there with a hand out. You took it, and let him lead you to where you could stand out of the way.

"You good?" Larry asked, handing you a bottle of water. You could manage a nod and a smile, and he returned to monitoring Van's antics.

Breathing came easier with room to move. You could fight against the intrusive and unhelpful thoughts because Catfish were so close, so loud, so perfect. The sound drowned out the thoughts, the lights kept your eyes open, Van kept your attention. You were calmed down by being hyped up by them. Fuck reality, it was a dream come true.

After the show, as they guys came off stage, they each walked to you. Bob was first.

"You okay?" he asked. You nodded.

"Shouldn't have made such a fuss," you replied to him.

"You didn't," he assured you.

"Van's like that," Benji said as he approached. He shook your hand. "How's the show from up here?"

"Amazing! You're amazing," you replied with a grin. They thanked you and headed backstage. Bondy came through and shook your hand and told you not to worry about stopping the show.

"He's done this before a couple of times. Better safe than sorry," he said. Your eyes flicked to Van, who was doing final thank yous on stage, then back to Bondy. You nodded. 

How meeting them so casually didn't induce another panic attack was a mystery. Meeting new people, certain public spaces, crowds, those were the things of nightmares. Anything where you'd feel trapped. Talking to Catfish wasn't a claustrophobic feeling though, so maybe they were immune to the anxiety.

Van appeared then, grinning and dripping with sweat. "Hey! If we're real quick we can have a smoke out the back before people come 'round. You can leave that way and they won't be a crowd to fight through," he suggested. You said goodbye and thank you to Bondy and followed Van through the backstage area. He'd stop to high five people, but still managed to move fast enough you had to do a little jog to keep up.

"So, what's ya name?" he asked in a concrete corridor.

"Y/N,"

"Nice to meet ya, Y/N. You alright? Ribs not crushed too bad?"

"Uh, no, they're fine. I just get… a little panicky in crowds sometimes," you replied. He'd given you a pretty good out to not have to explain that, but you felt okay with telling him the truth. He looked back at you over his shoulder.

"Well, guess I should say thank you for comin' to a show anyway. Putting yourself in a crowd like that for us," he said. The S on 'us' sounded like a Z.

"Worth it," you replied with a casual shrug.

Van opened the artists' entrance door, letting you through. Standing side by side, you tried to not stare as he smoked. It was as attractive as it appeared in the photos and videos you'd seen online. A bad habit but he had to be flawed somehow. If the smoking was it, let the boy breathe it in.

"So it's like, anxiety?" he asked you.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess. Some social situations,"

"Why aren't ya freakin' out right now?"

"Good question. Maybe I used up my daily quota of panic," you replied with a smile. He laughed and nodded.

"I'm told I have a very calming presence," he countered.

There were voices singing and yelping from the front of the venue. They'd appear where you were soon, seeking contact and photos and signatures. You couldn't be there when that happened.

"Thank you for helping me," you said to Van as you pushed off the wall. "Been to a couple of shows where people didn't do much. Sometimes security will notice, but… Yeah. Anyway. Thank you,"

"You're welcome. Like I said, don't want anybody hurt on my watch. Just want people to come to these shows and be happy, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. And they are. It was amazing. Really." Van watched you for a second, like he was assessing the likelihood of you falling apart again as soon as you left his line of sight. Slowly, he started to nod.

"Okay. Come here then," he said as he put his cigarette out and held his arms open. Your heart picked up its pace. It could have been the anxiety of hugging a stranger; do you put your arms over or under their arms? It could have been a direct response to being so close to Van McCann. Either way, you swallowed the nerves and stepped into him. He held you tight and you could feel his fingers spread out. Van hugged like he meant it, which he did.

A group of people appeared on the corner of the street. One of them screamed out an oh my god.

"That's definitely my cue to leave," you said, voice muffled by his body. Van nodded and let you go.

"You'll be alright? How you getting home?"

You laughed. What could he do if you'd said no you weren’t alright?

"Yeah, I'll be fine. My car's just up the road," you replied.

You looked at him and he smirked as you did.

"It's good you go to shows even though they can do this. Maybe I'll see you at our next one here, yeah?"

You nodded and smiled, took a breath, and walked down the road.


End file.
